I don't really understand. I'd given up. I was going to stop running, stop fighting, and just let it all end. But at the last second, I'd felt my compass pointing, well, here, and apparently preferring not to exist is similar enough to Vanishing that that's what happened. I must've been carried far enough by the current in the pipes to be out of range of whatever the Council people had done to block me.
When I get my eyes open and clear, though, there's no more than there should be, just unrelieved black. As a rule, I'm never sure what my compass thinks I need, I just get the direction. But it clearly wasn't just an escape. It's still pointing, only it's pointing...everywhere? It's confusing and frustrating and the feelings slightly stir me out of the dark despair I'd fallen into.
"Look, compass. I'm in no f'ing mood. 'Into the Between' is not a direction that makes any sense, but I guess I followed it well enough, so fine, whatever. But everywhere is not a direction. You'll have to do better than that, or I'm going right back to the stupid pipe." Even as I say this, I know it's not true. I'm not sure I've really regained much of a will to live, but I definitely don't want to go back there.
But to my shock, my compass responds. No matter how I've tried in the past, I've never gotten it to do anything other than what it does on its own. Yet this time it changes, and now it's pointing...later?
"Oh for f's sake. Later is even less of a direction than into here was! I can't go later on purpose, later just sort of comes, you know?"
My blood chills a bit. I remember that there is something in the Between, not something you can go looking for, since there's no where to go to, but which inevitably comes if you wait long enough.
"Nope. Noooooope. Screw you, compass. I don't care if I was willing to die, I am not going to wait here for the Whispers. That's a ticket to bad-crazy or worse or..." Not that I have a lot of choice here. If I'm not going back to the pipe, I have to wait for someone to Conjure me out. I hadn't come in with any terms, but then, how often does someone try to produce white mice? If it takes too long...
Maybe the pipe isn't so bad. I could keep swimming and coming back here for air when I need to, eventually I'll get out. Or get stuck in a filter or boiler and die.
But I wait. I don't quite have the motivation to do anything, and the part of me that was ready to give up in the sewers is morbidly curious about the Whispers. Could it really be worse than I already feel? The rest of me is pretty sure it could, but seems to be abstaining.
I can't tell how long it takes, time always feels weird in here, it doesn't seem to matter. Hours? Days? It feels like no time, and forever. I don't get hungry or thirsty, or have to pee, I just...am. Alone in the tight darkness.
Until I'm not.
"...s...hass...ffff..." I swallow. I haven't heard any words yet. I've stayed this long before and heard it start and run away, and everything was fine. If I go now... But there's my compass, still pointing ahead, insisting. "...she...heeeeere..." It doesn't sound scary exactly. It's scary because of the effects. But the Whispers are soft. Warm, somehow.
"I'm here. Do you have something I need?" I instantly regret speaking. Multiple voices spring up around me. Louder, overlapping.
"...passsst..."
"...knoooooowledge..."
"...release..."
"...freedom..."
"...pain..."
My compass seems to be twisting, it's pointing in a curve, or even a spiral? I give up making sense of it. I wonder if I actually am alive. Maybe this isn't the Between, maybe it's Hell. Maybe they're the same thing.
"...Hell...is the abssssssence...of looooove...". I'm paralyzed for a second, trying to decide if the voice really responded to my thoughts or if it was just a coincidence. I'm terrified and I desperately want to leave, but at the same time that was actually a sentence...I've never heard of the Whispers answering questions, this could be incredibly important.
"Am I going to Hell?" More overlapping voices.
"...ignorance is freedom..."
"...deception is poison..."
"...a perfect mask is real..."
They sounded more distinct now. Closer. My fear finally overrides my curiosity and I push myself back to the pipe.
Nothing happens. I'm still here. My heart is rocketing at hundreds of beats per minute, it has blended into a tight hum in my throat and chest. I try to move away from the voices, even though they come from every direction, even though I have nothing to push off or references to tell if I'm moving at all.
"...flight is folly..."
"...end is beginning..."
"...bliss and nothingness..."
The even pressure is broken somehow, I feel a touch on my mouth, slipping between my teeth, across my tongue.
I scream, and in my mouse-ears it sounds like an eagle's cry. I keep screaming and screaming, forcing every ounce of air out of my lungs, because I'm sure that when I run out, when I stop, when I take a breath, something else will come in with it and it'll stay there, and I realize I really, really want to live and not have horrible things happen to me or in me, or....
Something's caressing all my toes, forepaws and hind, it feels like velvet and sandpaper at the same time. I thrash wildly but there's nothing to avoid, and I have to breathe but I refuse, and it feels like wet smoke is curling into my ears and my eyes-
Even for a mouse's body, evolved for panic and evasion, it's all too much at once. I faint.
- - -
I feel too warm and try to push the covers off, but they seem heavier than they should be. Also I can't imagine what I was thinking getting a fur blanket, but I sleepily resolve to replace it as soon as...Fur blanket?
I open my eyes as I fully awaken, but this doesn't seem to help any. I'm being touched everywhere by soft warm pressure and I still can't see at all. I squeak and thrash, pushing with all my paws and surprisingly, I find myself tumbling into light. It isn't much, but I can make out my surroundings now. The heavy fur I'd pushed out from under belongs to several mice, piled into the corner of the glass case we share. They're agitated from all my commotion, and a couple admonish me with short barks, but most are returning to sleep without much fuss.
I walk to the edges of the case, but I know what I'm going to see before I look. From three sides, I can make out dimly-lit torture equipment. From the fourth, another case, which contains an enormous snake...enormous from my current perspective, anyway.
Out of the frying pan and into the f'ing blender.
I try to catch my breath. I'm clean, and dry...I'm not sure how long I've been here before I woke up. Maybe my fellow inmates helped with that, or maybe the Conjure was specific enough to exclude foreign substances? But despite my slightly improved immediate circumstances, in the long run I'm not sure my situation is really much better...through some wicked turn of karma, I've managed to land back in Circe's literally damned basement. But if the alternative is maximally-creepy Whisper-molestation, it's still nearly paradise in comparison. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to let myself Vanish again.
I consider my newest predicament as I catch my breath again. After a few months in this place the first time around, I'd come to my senses and left...taking advantage of Circe's distraction due to the beginning of her education on exactly how foolish it is to deal with Demons. But there's a new snake, and no piles of dead mice, Conjured but abandoned....which means she survived somehow, and was still doing her thing, only with years more demonic influence. Or maybe the Demon itself...I avoided even thinking the name...had taken over where Circe had left off?
I'm distracted from these thoughts when I catch sight of a curtain dropping some distance into the room. Even in the dim light, I recognize Augusta, standing awkwardly on a Conjure platform. My heart flutters in confused excitement at the thought that she's come looking for me. But a moment later I realize if she has, it's not very likely to be to help me. In fact, now that I've noticed it, her state of dress doesn't seem appropriate to any kind of deliberate jaunt. Unless she was actually doing a performance, was Vanished, and got caught in a Conjure? But she should know better by now than to go Between without terms. Of course, so should I...maybe she had extenuating circumstances too.
Even if Augusta is looking for more payback, I decide I have to get her attention. I'd still rather take whatever she thinks I deserve than stay here. But I can't just revert my form in the case, since it's too small...a constrained transformation doesn't work right, I can't burst enclosures with it...I'd just end up conforming to the size and shape of the interior, and probably be stuck that way unless someone fixed me with a custom incantation. Plus, she doesn't know what she's gotten into, and if she can't Vanish either, she needs help as much as I do.
I scrabble on the wall a bit, but she doesn't see me...the way she's squinting around makes me think she's not wearing her contacts, which makes no sense. Why would she do a performance without being able to see? And she had to be doing one, I couldn't think of any other reason she'd be wearing an obvious stage costume, plus a straitjacket.
The mesh lid of the case is held on by spring clips at the ends, but not latched. If I could push it hard enough, I might be able to get it off. I reach into my memory for my illicit copy of Augusta's Gravity Block and turn it on and off a couple times, getting a feel for it. I brace myself in an empty corner of the case, then turn it on again as I push upwards as hard as I can, tucking my chin to my chest. I manage to curl a little, but still most of the impact on the lid comes from my head. I gasp squeakily from the pain and bounce back down to the fluff-covered floor of the case.
I look up to see if my gymnastics had any effect on the lid, but if they did, it was too small to tell from here. And Augusta isn't paying any attention to me, she seems to be trying to undo her straitjacket, without much success. I sigh and clench my jaw, then try again.
After a few minutes my head and back are throbbing and I have to stop to try to heal them. Unfortunately, my fore-legs don't really bend properly to reach my back, so all I can do is quell the ache in my head, but that's something at least. By now I think I am making progress on the lid, though it's very slow. But unless I can get my ex-faux-friend's attention, I don't have anything better to try. For her part, Augusta seems to be making headway on getting unstrapped, though it's as laborious as my own efforts. There's a lot of grunting and swearing, and her expression is certainly very frustrated, though there's something odd about it I can't quite place. It could just be it's harder to read expressions when they're the size of Mount Rushmore, I've had that problem before.
She manages to release her arm straps before I've done much more with the case lid, and stretches, but we're both surprised to hear a slow clapping. My gut twists as I see a woman walk into view...she must've been hidden from my view earlier by the snake's case. It's Circe.
To her credit, Augusta immediately tries to Vanish, but gets no further than I had. When Circe notes this, my blood goes cold. She taught me about Vanishing, and I usually used the term for the place you go to that she always had - the Between. But now she was calling it "the Void", and there was something about it that resonated with my recent encounter with the Whispers. She knew more about it now than she had then, or thought she did. Was this just Demon-taught? Or had she stayed too?
But Circe's so creepy, I can't imagine she's not doing it deliberately. The girl predictably bolts, but not before Quick-Changing glasses on and turning the straitjacket into a more stylish sort. Then sneakers too, as she's running towards the stairs. I feel a strange burst of pride that she's been so practical...I can't imagine the Council encouraged that, they're so focused on performance magic. The white-haired Sorceress doesn't seem concerned, though...the door's probably locked and warded.
Instead, she's examining the adjacent cage. I wasn't really paying attention before, but I realize the snake inside has been a little riled up over the past few minutes.
"What has you so agitated, reptile? Does my guest excite you, too?" Her words prompt a burst of concern for Augusta, but that quickly shifts as Circe turns to look into my own case. The snake has been staring at me intently, and she's followed its gaze. I want to freeze, but I know that'll only draw more attention to myself. I do quickly put my head back down though, so I'm not obviously looking at them, and dry-wash my face with my forepaws. "Mmm...that one does look brave, or perhaps stupid, off all by itself. Soon enough, pet, soon enough." She drums her fingers on the lid of the snake's case idly.
I try not to look at them while trying not to look like I'm trying, and settle on staring out of a side of the cage other than towards Circe or the snake. This means I see the figure descending the stairs into the room before they do. For a moment I'm not sure what I'm seeing...my best guess is that the door wasn't locked, or this is some kind of sting and Augusta managed to let an honest-to-god demon-hunter in. But her head isn't covered, and I realize it's Augusta wearing full body armor, and walking like she owns the place.
I'm taken aback slightly by how out-of-proportion it was when I was impressed just by glasses, a jacket and sneakers. Where did she even get that outfit, let alone imprint it into a Quick Change? It doesn't look like cobbled-together sporting equipment, or even bulky military gear, it looks like a freaking movie. Is Augusta far, far wealthier than she'd told me? That doesn't make any sense either, she couldn't have lied. The Council must've fixed her up with it after, though I can't fathom why they'd do that. Unless they were sending her after me?
I tune back into the wary banter between the women in time to hear Circe explain that Augusta was here because she'd interacted with someone Circe was looking for, and in no time at all, she drops the name I'd been dreading hearing.
"Passed this latest trial", huh? I guess instead of killing you, the demon decided to screw with you over an extended period. I wonder if she still enjoys it as much, given you seem to like it now...
They're not paying attention to me anymore, but I keep eavesdropping rather than resuming my painful attempts to batter open the case lid. It sounds like Circe somehow specified having met Taob in her Open Conjure, which ought to have been ridiculously hard, from what little I knew. And Augusta hasn't really met anyone recently but...but me? But she doesn't think I'm a demon, which is really about as faint praise as someone can possibly be damned with, but still on some pathetic level makes me happy.
Except I wonder. My memories have...fuzzy bits. I try not to think about them, but I know they're there. My thirteenth birthday is a complete blur. My high school years were mostly unremarkable, but in this weirdly unspecific way. Like...I don't know, like I was an extra on a TV show. It feels like I might've been bullied, maybe a lot, but I can't really remember any specific incident. And escaping from Circe, I know Taob was there, and somehow got around the bindings Circe used, and I ran away, but it's just all...fuzzy. Still, I'm certain if I were a demon, I'd know.
Mostly certain.
Augusta is describing me, now, fairly accurately. Affectionately, even, though this inconsistency seems to occur to her as well and she cuts herself off. Circe starts pressing for my name, and Augusta hedges, but finally makes a mistake, and lies. With terrifying speed, the Sorceress is suddenly choking her with her own words, Circe's face a mask of frozen displeasure. It's probably Augusta's outfit, but some mad part of me pictures the scene as a comic book, the evil magic-using villain choking the lovely heroine, because she's trying to protect the innocent.
Except she's protecting me.
I begin flinging myself against the case lid again, trying to get anyone's attention, though only the snake appears to care.
"Just say it, it doesn't matter, just say it, say it, say it!" I yell in frantic squeaks, punctuated by grunts as my body slams against lid, then floor, push off, lid, then floor...
But Augusta draws just enough breath to taunt her, and I see Circe's face change, she's totally going to kill her and it'll be all my fault again... The Sorceress jerks up sharply and I close my eyes, not wanting to see it, but I don't hear the crack of her neck breaking, instead other sounds that aren't matching up with my imagination.
I wrench my eyes open and can't process everything fast enough, Augusta is standing on the ceiling, except she's shouting something and now jumping straight down, and holy shit she just decked Circe, but now she's ricocheting, her limbs flailing in panic, she's coming right at the table-
There's a tremendous jarring impact that feels like an earthquake, and the floor of the case slams up at me, my chin bouncing off heavily. Everything seems to slow down to a crawl, the other mice are screaming in alarm and starting to float apart in midair. Doesn't make any sense.
How'd they get a Gravity Block? They're mice.
The room outside the cage is slowly rotating, and I sluggishly realize the mice aren't unaffected by gravity, it's that the whole case has been knocked off the table, both cases, and we're falling. I'm probably going to die, the glass will shatter when the case hits the floor, and it'll be like being in a gigantic ultra-sharp food processor. I think about turning in midair to keep my head and spine pointed at the fluffy bedding, but everything is so slow, I can barely move, I'm not sure what I'd need to do anyway, it's so slow and hectic at the same time. I could transform, it might be better to be a freakish cube-girl than dead...but if I didn't end up with useful hands, I couldn't heal if I did get cut, and if I try to time it just as the glass breaks instead I might cut my own throat as I grow...
The case is below the level of the table now, we'll hit the floor soon. I see the snake, floating in its own falling case, still staring at me, and the reminder makes me decide to try it...at least if I'm much bigger he couldn't swallow me.... In the last instant before I shift, I notice that the impact that knocked the case off the table has partly-opened the lid as well, already loosened by my previous efforts, and I feel a desperate hope that it's open enough.
I feel a sudden enormous pressure spreading up my body from my feet, and then it's all breaking glass and chaos.